


The Public Make-Up

by ThePause



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Accidental Public Sexy Times, But Extra, Canon Compliant, David being David, David's Inner-Swirl, M/M, Olive Branch, Patrick being Patrick, Stevie Being Stevie, The Schitt's Creek Portal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: David's ready to get back together with Patrick and decides a grand gesture is in order. Problem is, the gesture results in a little more than he and Patrick bargained for.Set in "The Olive Branch."
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 91
Kudos: 204
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	The Public Make-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to missgeevious for being an A+ beta and person. Any mistakes are me being a dummy.

It wasn’t that David wanted to be broken up with Patrick, not at all. There was a moment, in fact, when he thought he’d never be in a broken-up-with situation ever again. When the four-month cookie arrived, David’s heart had looped itself into an unbreakable knot, firmly tied to Patrick and his incessant and adorable need to celebrate ridiculous milestones. David never admitted it out loud, but he loved Patrick’s over-the-top celebrations. It made him feel like Patrick was celebrating him, too, celebrating that he got to be with David. It felt good, being with someone who was proud to be associated with David, proud to say, yes, this one’s mine. Spending a few days away from Patrick’s spotlight of adoration had left David depleted, like a shampoo bottle you have to shake, shake, shake to squeeze out the last dime-sized dollop. 

At first, when he’d learned there was a fiancée Patrick hadn’t told him about, David had gone full-tilt irate, raising his arms and his eyebrows in accusation. Because too-nice-Patrick had secrets, big ones, and maybe there was more he wasn’t being totally honest about. So, David pushed him away, told him he needed time, told him he was damaged goods (that part was accurate). The truth was, he wanted to see what Patrick would do, if he’d come back, stay. He wasn’t trying to test Patrick, not really, he just needed to know. If Patrick came back, maybe it would be easier for David to believe it was all really real.

But enough days of brooding and waiting had passed. David was ready to resume adoring and being adored. He wanted to get back together. 

And were they getting back together? Were they even broken up? Officially? They’d been texting daily and Patrick had been sending gifts, so many gifts. David loved the gifts. A lot. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, he missed Patrick. The gifts and the texts and the one phone call to talk through an issue at the store weren’t enough. He needed more. He needed to kiss him hello and goodbye, needed frantic make-outs in the back of Patrick’s car, needed Patrick’s voice, hot in his ear, telling him exactly how he wanted to take him apart. David needed to touch Patrick and be touched by him in all the ways a person can touch and be touched.

It wasn’t just the sex he missed. David missed Patrick’s gentle patience with irritating customers, the way he mindlessly twitched his lips when he was building a new spreadsheet for the store, the way he hummed and shook his hips when he was making dinner, his affinity for tuna sandwiches, his damn button-downs with the sleeves rolled up. The way he looked David right in the eye when he told him how special he was, how much he cared about him.

So, he made a plan. He got dressed up in his black leather sweater with the white stars around the collar. He put on the new bracelet from Patrick (loved the bracelet). He had a pep-talk with Stevie that was more Stevie making fun of him, but still. He went over to the store, ready to run into Patrick’s open arms, ready to be metaphorically (and maybe literally) twirled around, all forgiven, everything back to the way it should be. But before David could initiate a swoony reunion, Patrick made a speech, something about smothering and being embarrassed and some other words David couldn’t remember because why wasn’t all forgiven? Why wasn’t there twirling? He wanted twirling! He wanted a music swell! In rom-coms, there was always a music swell! They should be making out, should be flipping the open sign to closed, should be dragging each other into the back room. Instead, Patrick’s face was stern and business-y and nothing at all what David expected.

David opened his mouth to argue, to say wait a second, this isn’t what I want, but he couldn’t because Patrick was hugging him stiffly, like someone who’d never been inside of him in every possible way. Patrick pulled away from the hug and went back to work, leaving David stunned and confused.

David didn’t know how to do it, how to break-up (sort of) and get back together. He’d never gotten back together with someone, never been on a break that was truly a break and not a break-up. And suddenly Patrick was trying to be all, what, mature? All David wanted was Patrick, but Patrick, it seemed, wanted to give David the space he no longer needed. How could he say it? How could he say, “You’re the only thing in this world that makes sense in my life and I need you more than I need my daily moisturizer.” Surely Patrick would understand the magnitude of David saying he needed him more than he needed supple, well-hydrated skin? But it was too late. Patrick was cooling his jets right when David’s jets were fired up and ready to launch.

Somehow, despite his inner-voice screaming that he wasn’t enough for someone _again_ , he knew Patrick hadn’t given up on him. He knew the suggestion to “just be professional” wasn’t because Patrick didn’t want to be with him. Because Patrick knew how to navigate hard things. And David _was_ a hard thing. He was relationship-awkward and needy and prone to bouts of overblown hysteria and unable to resist eating an entire box of I’m-sorry-chocolates in one sitting. Thing was, Patrick had always liked all the things about David that scared most people away. When David spiraled, Patrick grinned. When David resisted compromise, Patrick teased and pushed and laughed. When David closed himself off, Patrick gently knocked, crept inside, set up camp. Even this debacle, it seemed, wasn’t going to scare him away. 

So, David decided to play along, to be professional and mature. To work next to his co-worker without grabbing his ass or eye-fucking him over the loose teas or suggesting they close down for lunch so they could give each other we’re-back-together blowjobs in the back room. If Patrick could be mature about the whole thing, so could David.

It lasted all of 45 minutes.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t stand next to Patrick and pretend to be less than everything to each other, couldn’t go back to before. So, he told Patrick, or sort of shout-talked it at him, confessing his want to be _together_ together.

Patrick was irritated, but not angry. Befuddled at David’s lack of communication and overly dramatic silence, but still _in_ , still _there_ , still next to him in all the right ways. Patrick put his hands on David’s face which, God, felt so good, and said some words David probably would have loved but didn’t hear because Patrick’s eyes on him cleared the haziness from the last few days, pulled everything into sharp focus. Patrick was still there. He still wanted David, even though David was shit at relationships, shit at making things right, shit at doing for Patrick all the things Patrick did for him.

And that’s when he knew what he needed to do. David needed to pull a Patrick. He needed to do something big, showy, something that was entirely for Patrick and not at all for himself. He needed to do something _selfless_.

He spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with a plan, an olive branch he could extend to Patrick that would erase all of Patrick’s (warranted) frustration and get him back in Patrick’s good graces, back in his embrace.

When Patrick closed the store for the night, suggesting David take him to dinner and pay for it, David pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down. He’d been working up his nerve all afternoon, telling himself it wasn’t about him, it was about Patrick. He needed to prove to Patrick that he wanted him, that he was sorry for the last few days, that he was willing to be uncomfortable if it brought Patrick some level of joy.

Patrick’s face stayed neutral until the first notes of the song rang out across the store’s sound system. David purposefully picked the same song Patrick had sung to him at their first Open Mic Night. But he didn’t sing, instead doing an embarrassing (but hopefully endearing) dance-lip-sync combo that made Patrick laugh and smile. David thought he’d last about thirty seconds, but Patrick’s expression, the softening of his shoulders, the way his legs spread wide in his chair, gave David the fuel to keep going, keep dancing, keep flirting with Patrick. David would dance forever to keep that smile on Patrick’s face.

When the song ended, David was on the floor, on his knees, looking up at Patrick.

Patrick palmed David’s cheek, looking so fondly at him David could feel his heart swelling in his chest. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

“Well,” David said, sliding his hands up Patrick’s thighs and squeezing his hips, “I wanted you to know how sorry I am for…everything…and how grateful I am for you. How grateful I am that we’re back to being us.”

Patrick ran his hand down David’s neck, his shoulder. He leaned down closer to David, looked at his lips, a grin on his face. “Let’s never stop being us again.”

David leaned up to meet Patrick in a kiss, the first kiss they’d shared since the barbeque, since Rachel. Kissing Patrick wasn’t like kissing anyone else, because kissing Patrick was a shared experience, both of them invested in more than just the press of lips. There was heart in it, a mess of feelings, hope for the future. 

David felt a surge of want. 

“You know,” David said, kissing Patrick one more time, “this whole getting back together moment has given me an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I mean,” he said, quirking an eyebrow, “I’m already here, on my knees.”

Patrick slid down the chair, knees bracketed around David, slowly inching closer. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I was _thinking_ ,” David said, his thumbs pressing into the tops of Patrick’s thighs, “I might like to give you a blowjob, you know, as a celebration of our...reconciliation. Does that sound like something you might be interested in?”

Patrick bit his bottom lip and exhaled sharply. “I mean, it’d be pretty rude of me, you know, to turn down your generous offer.”

David pressed his lips together in a grin and said, “I’m a very generous person,” as he eagerly tugged at the button on Patrick’s jeans.

//

They went to the cafe the next morning for breakfast, holding hands, their smiles still wide from the night before. What started as a friendly blowjob had turned into what David was mentally calling one of the Top Ten Most Erotic Moments of His Life™. Patrick has been speechless afterwards, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. They’d crossed a new line, broken a new barrier, and not just the barrier of their rule (more Patrick’s rule than David’s) of not having sex in the store. It had been, if David had to describe it, transcendent, the pent up need exploding into screaming desire, both of them letting go of any inhibition that was left between them.

Stevie was sitting in a booth when they stepped into the cafe and waved them over, like she’d been waiting for them to show up. “Hey, you two. Sleep well?” 

She was up to something. She only looked like that when she was up to something. David slid into the booth next to Patrick and appraised her, his chin out, eyes low.

“Why does your face look like that?”

“Why does my face look like what?” she said, feigning innocence.

“Like you dismembered a motel guest and buried them behind the shed.”

Stevie grinned, her lips pressed together suppressing a full-out laugh. She looked each of them in the eye, hesitating long enough to make them squirm. “Congrats on the…making up.”

David narrowed his eyes even lower. “Thank you.”

She kept grinning, waiting for them to get it. “It looked like it was a success.” She waited a beat. “From what I could see.”

Patrick’s face went crimson as he jerked his head over to look at David, who was scowling at Stevie.

David’s mind flicked through images of the night before: On his knees, his mouth on Patrick’s sweet cock, them scrambling to move behind the display table, Patrick’s jeans half-down, pulling a blanket down from the back shelf, David managing to get his pants and briefs off but nothing else, Patrick’s jeans pooled around his ankles, shoes still on, David blindly reaching up and fumbling around to find some of the organic lube they sold, David climbing on and riding Patrick like he was born to ride cock, Patrick shouting David’s name over and over, one of them screaming, maybe both. They’d never done it like that, half-dressed and frantic, too hard and too eager to think about anything else but coming together. God, he was getting half-hard just thinking about it. 

David’s voice was a high whisper when he asked Stevie the next question. “And what, exactly, did you see?”

Stevie folded her hands on the table, loving every second of David’s distress. “I saw two people reconnecting after some time apart.”

Patrick’s face fell into his hands, a desperate, whiny “David” eking out between his fingers.

David cleared his throat, sat up straighter, adjusted his shoulders. “I’m not…ashamed of anything. I have a hot boyfriend. We fucked. So what.”

Twyla sidled up next to the booth, a wide smile on her face. “Hey, guys, just wanted to say wow, totally impressed. Looks like yoga’s been paying off?”

Patrick groaned next to David, his face still in his hands, mumbling something unintelligible about _rules_ and _shouldn’t have_ and _knew it_.

David glared at Stevie, “You told Twyla?”

“Oh, I saw you guys,” Twyla said, happily. “Congratulations. Really happy for you both.” She left the table without taking their order.

“Stevie?” David asked, her name coming out in a high whine.

Stevie bit her bottom lip. “Look, the music was kinda loud. It drew a crowd. We all saw your dance, which was super awkward by the way,”

“Thankyousomuch.”

“And then we all just...hung around for the after show. The after show was way better than the dance if you ask me.”

Patrick looked up, his eyes bigger than David had ever seen them. “Who’s we?”

Before Stevie could answer, Bob sashayed over to their booth in a little jog-hop-skip maneuver, his hands limp at his ribs. “Just wanted to say,” he winked, “great performance last night. Gwen was especially impressed with your athleticism, David. We didn’t know you had it in you! Great, great job.” He playfully punched his fist on David’s arm and sashayed away.

David’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes burning into Stevie’s. He couldn’t even look at Patrick.

Stevie shrugged. “There were…a lot of people there.”

“What’s a lot?”

“Well,” she started counting on her fingers, “me, Twyla, Bob, Gwen, Ronnie,”

“Ronnie!” Patrick shrieked, his voice cracking.

“Jocelyn and Roland, Ray, Alexis, Ted, Mutt, Mrs. Rose,”

“My MOTHER was there?”

David’s body went completely numb and he lost his hearing for a second. Patrick slid down further into the booth, trying to melt into the seat vinyl and disappear.

“Oh, hey guys,” Roland said, walking up to the booth with Jocelyn. “Hey, great show last night. Really. Jocelyn and I went home and tried to reenact it but I’m not sure we got it totally right. Think you’d be up for a second showing tonight?” Jocelyn laughed and knocked her hand into his chest and pulled him away to sit at another table.

David remained catatonic, words spilling from his lips in a robotic tone. “Roland saw us fucking. Ray saw us…well Ray’s probably seen us before. But Roland saw us. Fucking.”

“And your mother,” Stevie offered.

“And my mother.”

“Hello, you two,” Moira said, as if appearing out of thin air.

“Does no one eat breakfast at home anymore?” David huffed, re-animated, his hands flailing.

“You both put on quite the performance last night,” she said, nodding her head like she was giving a glowing review. “It reminded me of the time I dabbled in public sexual congress on the Spanish steps at the Piazza di Spagna. Not the best venue, the stairs really dig into your back when you-”

“Okay,” David shouted, cutting her off, “thank you, that will be all.”

The shine from the night before had sufficiently worn off. What was, moments ago, one of the Top Ten Most Erotic Moments of His Life™ was now tainted. Desecrated. He waited for Moira to walk away before turning on Stevie.

“Great prank, Stevie, really, well done getting the whole town involved. Patrick and I were behind the display table. No one saw anything.” 

She laughed then, a full throaty laugh that David thought was a little bit sexy and then admonished himself for thinking so because she was also an evil little goth troll with no soul.

“We couldn’t see everything, that’s true, but we saw enough,” she said. “I could be specific, if you want to know.”

“Please don’t,” Patrick whimpered.

David put his hand on Patrick’s knee, which was bouncing so fast it was shaking the booth. He side-eyed Stevie, telling her without words to go ahead and say what she needed to say.

“We saw the dance, like I told you, and honestly, David, never do that again, wow.”

“It wasn’t for you,” he sniped.

“I liked it,” Patrick offered, weakly.

“Then we saw you,” she looked at David, “on your knees, giving you,” she looked at Patrick, “a very enthusiastic blowjob. And might I say, way to go.”

Patrick gasped, “Oh my God, DAVID.”

David ignored him, his attention focused on Stevie, waiting to hear what came next. 

“Then we saw you both giggling and shuffling over behind the table. We saw you pull a blanket down from the back shelf, a blanket I hope you won’t be selling, and then Patrick laid down, his jeans still around his ankles and-”

“We get it,” David said, “you don’t have to keep going.”

“David, it was hot.”

“Super hot,” Ronnie said, standing next to David. Why did everyone keep showing up right next to him? Was there a portal somewhere in town that opened up to the fucking middle booth at the café?

Patrick groaned again, his face in his hands again.

“Good morning, Ronnie,” David said, eyebrows high, not meeting her eyes.

“And just to clarify, you were the one who was super hot. Patrick over there, not so much.”

“Thank you, Ronnie,” Patrick said through his hands.

Ronnie laughed loud and a little bit cheeky and went over to talk to Roland and Jocelyn.

“We’ll have to close the store,” David whispered, looking into the middle distance. “We’ll have to close the store and move to…Delaware.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Stevie said, “everyone liked it.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, Stevie, that’s exactly what I was hoping for, my boyfriend and I being spank bank fodder for the population of Schitt’s Creek.”

Patrick looked up then, his eyes wet. “You think people will…get off? On the…from…from us?”

Stevie shrugged again. “I mean, I know I did.”

This time it was David who put his face in his hands.

//

They left the café without ordering breakfast. Patrick unlocked the door to the store and re-locked it after they walked inside, scanning the front picture windows to make sure no one was watching. He motioned for David to follow him into the back room.

David leaned against the desk covered in invoices and packing slips while Patrick paced the small space between his office chair and the metal shelving covering the back wall. It was only three steps round-trip, but Patrick was stomping his way there and back like a man on a mission.

“The whole town, David. The whole town saw us.”

“It wasn’t,” David closed his eyes, shook his head, “the _whole_ town.”

Patrick stopped pacing and put his hands on David’s shoulders. “That’s not something I…I’m not…I wouldn’t…” 

He went back to pacing.

David shrugged, one hand in the air like he’d already made his point. “I mean, Stevie said it was hot. Ronnie, too. I think, well, I think maybe it’s not a big deal?”

Patrick’s eyes went wide. “You’re seriously saying it’s not a big deal that Roland Schitt saw you riding my cock?”

David blanched, his shoulders inching up towards his ears. “When you put it like that.” 

Patrick’s eyes stayed wide, his lips parted. 

“Look,” David said. “It happened. There’s nothing we can do to change that. I don’t love that it happened, but I’m also sort of fine with it the more I think about it? I mean, you’re fucking incredible,” he said, his fingers dancing up Patrick’s arms. “Who wouldn’t want to watch you getting ridden like a horse in the Kentucky Derby.”

“That’s a weird and mildly disturbing analogy,” Patrick said, gripping David’s hips, “but I think I know what you mean. Although I bet everyone was looking at you, head thrown back, your gorgeous neck on display, eyes closed, mouth open. You looked incredible like that.”

David’s mouth twitched up in a lop-sided grin. “You were watching me?”

“Are you kidding? Patrick said, moving his head down to kiss under David’s jaw. “I’m always watching you, all the time. Clothes on, clothes off. I can’t get enough. In fact, I’ve been thinking about commissioning a statue of your naked body to erect next to the front doors of the store. Thought it might bring in some new clientele. But now that they’ve all seen the real thing…”

“Excuse you, I had my sweater on,” David said, kissing Patrick just this side of dirty.

Patrick wrapped his arms under David’s and around his back, his hands splayed across David’s shoulder blades. “So, back to our rule of no sex in the store?”

David smiled, thinking. “How about no sex during business hours?”

“David,” Patrick said, his tone cautionary but his face soft.

David looked up, shook his head in a circle, grinned the grin that always melted Patrick’s defenses. “I’m just saying, we don’t open the store for another twenty minutes.”


End file.
